Rain Drops
by eternalshiva
Summary: The rain was something that made Kakashi uneasy, the sound against the window panes struck a chord deep inside of his memories that even Rin knew was hard to forget. Rin decides that it's time to change his perception. Kakashi/Rin Oneshot.


**Rain Drops  
**_By eternalshiva_

_Disclaimer –  
_I do not own Naruto nor do I make any monies off this Fanfiction. All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

**AN – **Naruto Secret Santa Claus from Live Journal – Request made by thatreevesgirl. The big reveal has been posted so now I can post this story :P

Thank you, _Jolly Green_, for the beta. I appreciate it.

* * *

The lid of his eye twitched. A dull throb flickered across the scar when thunder rumbled across the clouds outside the window of their home. The tips of his right hand touched the gap in his skin caused by the silver dent. The ache dulled over time but the memories still lingered – the feeling of regret and what-ifs were always predominant on these kinds of days.

He couldn't deny it to himself, it was the sound of the rain against his window panes that made him uneasy – they were too similar to pebbles falling and it brought back terrible memories for him. Lightning flashed again, the rumble of thunder chasing the rain caught his attention. Opening his eyes he focused on the small window in their room.

The tomoe spun, contracting the pupil against the flash of lightning. Kakashi couldn't help but think of his friend when he felt his chakra being swallowed by the Uchiha memento. He closed his eyes again, the sound of rain lulling him asleep while his bed held only him amongst the sea of white sheets.

He hated the rain.

Rin tiptoed from the kitchen holding a tray in her hands – breakfast in bed was almost a must on these kinds of days. It's not that she minded acting domesticated once in a while; she was more than happy to feed her lover while he overcame his unusual melancholy brought on by this weather. She knew the cause, she had seen him touch the scar across his eye and the fore longed expression that haunted him when the rain was whipped excessively hard by the wind.

It was just like falling rocks; pebbles dripping against the windows – dragging back the inescapable memory of Obito lying under the layers of stone deep in the enemy forest, never to be retrieved.

She sighed. Guilt was hard to forgive, especially from your own regrets.

"Wake up, darling." She hushed herself into the bedroom. Kakashi stirred lightly from the bed but he did not acknowledge her, so she said it a little louder.

Still nothing but a soft fake snore and a twitch of his foot.

She rolled her eyes and put the tray to the side on their desk before crawling into bed like a cat and curling her body against his back. He stirred again, taking her hand in his own and pulling her arm across his chest. She waited, and waited. Still, no response from her lover.

i_Maybe he really did fall asleep.'_

"Good morning," he said, interrupting her assumptions. His voice was thick and low from sleep. She could feel his forearm muscles flex lightly as his fingers absently petted her own. She pressed her face between the clavicles of his back - the naked flesh was hot against her cheek.

"Good morning, Kakashi." He focused on her smile, it was bright in his melancholy. His eyes wandered over the tattoos of her clan marking her cheeks. He was always touching them in her sleep; they were a bright contrast against her sun kissed skin and he found them fascinating.

"What brings you here?" he teased before turning towards her, pulling her into his arms. He buried his nose in her hair before kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, just his grumpy old man who can't stand the rain." She sighed in a dramatic fashion. She could feel his amused glare digging through and she grinned against his bare chest. She snuggled to him for several silent minutes as the rain continued to drip in harmony with their breaths. She stirred in his arms and pushed herself up, sitting on the bed.

"I made breakfast for you," she almost whispered, she was a little out of sort from his sudden affections, "and it's getting cold with all this distraction." She leaned down, kissed him tenderly on the lips before escaping his extending arms.

Disappointment marred his exposed features, and she giggled – she couldn't help but to keep her gaze on his face. He was very handsome when he removed his mask and she was the only one privy to such vulnerability. His arms fell back down to his sides and he huffed, unhappy that his plans to pull her back into the heat of the bed and the comfort of his arms were foiled by some bacon and eggs.

"I'd rather have you," he said suggestively. She looked over her shoulder and smirked.

"You old pervert, you can't live off sex and sleep – you need food once in a while."

"Stop calling me old, we're the same age," he deadpanned. She ignored his complaint and put the tray next to him on the bed. She sat down and took one of the dishes. She eyed him curiously as he sat up and reached for the item in her hands. He rolled his eyes when she pulled it away, pouting.

"Ah-ah!" She shook her head slightly, her eyes twinkled with amusement, "I want to feed you."

There was a strange staring contest that sparked between them; it wasn't anywhere near romantic to say the least.

He hated being fed and she was a messy feeder.

"You're going to make a mess." He pressed his lips together, unwilling to give in. She rolled her eyes at him openly. She hated it when he used that specific tone of voice with her, she wasn't a child.

"I'll clean it up, every last drop." She put her hand on his chest, her fingers caressed the skin lightly before she pushed him back. "I promise, cross my heart."

Her voice held a promise he was hard-press to ignore. He let himself be pushed back against the pillows of their bed, she gave him that little smirk he knew meant she had meant something else with her promise.

Suddenly he didn't mind that she fed him.

"Fine." He caved, so whipped – as his sensei would say. He watched her smile, dazzling him with her simplicity and gratefulness. He could feel his cheeks heat; he ignored the thoughts as her fingers still touched his skin.

Rin broke the intimate contact, the air had changed suddenly between them, her heart had quickened for an instant before she felt his own pulse beat harder under her touch. She was still not used to seeing this particular side of him, even if it had been several years since they had become lovers. Even now, she had trouble controlling her impulses at times. Especially right then...

He was staring at her, one eye closed – his upper body free of the sheet and exposing the lean and tight muscle across his chest. She couldn't help but bite her lower lip slightly when it flexed as he made himself comfortable. The sheets bunched right above his hips, hiding her favourite part of him. She let her eyes wander openly over his body. He shifted and cleared his throat; her eyes focused on his face, framed by his silver gray hair and she thought about how it reminded her of the colour of rain clouds.

"The food is getting cold, Rin," he teased, breaking her out of her reverie. She blushed lightly realising she'd been ogling him quite openly. She quickly snatched a set of chopsticks from the plate and prepared a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

There was a funny little twinkle in his eyes that was maddening and cute, a warning she chose to ignore.

He opened his mouth while she blushed lightly at the intimacy of feeding her lover. The corner of his lips curled lightly when he noticed her eyes wandering again. She didn't really want to feed him, she wanted something else all together.

A ninja should always see beneath the underneath. He smirked and she frowned.

Rin, he discovered after several months, was a very visual person. She indulged herself quite openly with his physique, her fingers were always touching him heatedly, eager to discover him. He would never admit it, but his lover's fascination with the way they made love was a complete turn on.

He flushed slightly, her brow arched slightly in wonder and he quietly cursed on the timing of his memory - their bodies tangled tightly against each other, sweaty, hot and full of each other. Her hand dipped again into the bowl, another bite and he could feel a piece of the egg on the corner of his lip, but, he made no move to clean it himself. He had a plan.

Rin pointed at the spot, he shrugged slightly before swallowing the mouthful.

"You have a ..."

Hooked, lined and sunk.

"I know," he interrupted and grabbed at the hand she was using to point. She yelped when he pulled her to him. She looked up, her nose bumping into his. Her breath seemed loud in her ears. His eyes were beautiful; the intensity of his gaze ripped a shiver from her, goosebumps crawled up the skin of her back and tickled. She lowered her eyes and focused on the little bit by his lip.

She leaned in and his breath hitched when he felt her lips against the corner of his mouth, the velvety feeling of her tongue forced him to suppress a heated shiver. She moved her lips across his own, her fingers dropping the chop sticks before tangling themselves in the silver locks of her lover's hair.

She demanded he allow her to deepen the kiss and he obliged – soon the food was forgotten as he peeled away her layers of clothing. The dark skin against the white sheets entranced him and without realising it, the rain became but a noise he could easily block out.

He was consumed with the sounds of Rin - begging for more under the touch of his fingers, shouting her pleasure; the moans lingered and swallowed all of his attention. His senses busied themselves with the taste of her skin, the feel of her movement against his own, the languid sound of his name escaping her lips drove him to the brink of sanity and he begged her to say it once more.

The storm would pass, eventually.

Rin laid there next to him, motionless, listening to his breathing – thankful he was finally truly asleep. She had to wonder when the day would come... when he would see the rain in a different light.

She knew that someday, the storms would stop reminding him of pebbles hitting the bloodied floor of that cave and there would be a time in his life when he will look up to the grey skies and wish for the rain to fall and kiss his skin.

In the future, the rain would be a loving memory instead of a haunted one because she, right there and then, promised something while he slept.

Here in his arms, listening to his heart, regardless of where or when it rained, she would fill his mind with their happiness – he would only have thoughts of her. She promised him, secretly, that she would always take his body for her own and pleasure it until he was no longer listening to the wail of his past.

Someday, she knew, he would crave for the rain to come.

- Fin -


End file.
